Liberation
by Siaynoqsbride
Summary: Sarah has become ensnared, turning away from fantasy into real life. She has become apathetic towards everything, including the Goblin King who both loves and hates her. Can anything undo the cold trappings of both their hearts? JS
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- Alright, just a quickie note here: Sorry to everyone that may have been reading YCtMiD, but I really just wasn't satisfied with my writing and the way the plot was heading, so I decided to start this, and hopefully I will be far more satisfied with this incarnation of it, which will differ in several ways from the original. Thanks to anyone who reads this! _

**Chapter One**

It had been two years, Sarah thought with a strange delight as she walked up the stairs of her expensive apartment complex. There was something about this night that made her reflect, something that brought her back to her past and made her think about her future. It had been two years since she had graduated. Her name was already one of the most talked-of in the Broadway soirée of rising and falling actors and musicians. She wasn't _famous_, not exactly, but her name was becoming more and more familiar, people recognizing her on the street, ever since that the one performance into which she had thrown her heart and soul.

_Sarah Williams_, they would say, their whispers somehow managing to reach her ears, a small smile of satisfaction curling around her lips as she heard their praises, in rehearsal or walking down the streets to the hushed murmurings of pedestrians. _She will go far. _

She had transformed, leaving the world of fantasy and childish daydreams behind. She had purged Jareth from her system, slowly shutting out everything that reminded her of him until she had been reborn, reinventing herself into something new, something fit for the world that did not have time for fantasy and dreams. Life had sped up, it seemed, sped up until she was too caught up in the flow and swing of things to even think about the tales of fantasy that had seemed to be everything to her. It had changed her immensely, until the Sarah she had been would not have recognized herself today.

Karen was nicer, she mused with a laugh, entering her darkened New York apartment. The older woman was quite amicable towards Sarah, now that she was 'doing something,' in the words of her stepmother.

Sarah reached for the light switch, fingers groping in the dark. When she turned it on, she saw the room light up, and she smiled wider as she saw even more proof of her success.

Soft, muted light flooded across a large, plush living room, with black, chic leather couches and chairs, and a flat-screen television that she never watched, set against a red wall. A kitchen with expensive kitchenware- pointless because Sarah did not know how to cook- was on the other side of her home, and a polite veneer of white paint covered her walls, tying it all together.

She was exhausted, she thought, stifling a yawn as she threw her purse on the small coffee table in her living room and lounged over her furniture, arms and legs sprawling comfortably. It had been a long, full day, and she had hardly had a second to breathe.

In fact, she hardly _ever_ had any time to herself. She had _thrown _herself into her work, learning everything she could, absorbing names and roles and lines like a sponge. There was hardly ever any time wasted for contemplation, and tonight was one of the rare times in which she was in a mood to review all that had happened.

She had not known what it was that had finally changed her, had made her grow up. She'd had dreams of Jareth for a long time, and she had become distant; removed. Detached from everything and everyone, until every thought had been of him, his presence never actually with her but always tormenting her mind. He had filled her life, the songs he sang coming back to haunt her, his eyes mocking her throughout the day every time she closed her eyes until she had thought she would go insane.

And then, she had somehow snapped. Everything had been too much for her, trying to balance remembering the powerful, compelling idol from her childhood with her adult life, trying to substitute one for the other, discovering that it never worked...

His name had become almost taboo to her, any thoughts of him near sacrilege. She had slowly driven him from her life, because she was _tired _of it all, tired of fighting him and giving in to him all at once. The only thing that had been present in her mind was the fact that he was _destroying _her, that she had to escape from his jealous, possessive grasp.

Sarah closed her eyes, suddenly overcome by a bout of weariness as a question rose to the forefront of her mind, unwelcome and unwanted. Was she happy? A small, bitter smile graced her lips as she reminded herself that happiness was a state of mind, nothing more.

She was better off then most people, that was for sure, she thought, surveying her possessions mentally She lived richly, and almost every extravagance was hers; if she wanted it. But was she happy?

She searched inside of herself, turning her mind inside out for any feelings or emotions she had, and there was...

Nothing. She did not feel anger or sorrow or joy; she found herself a blank, indifferent slate, on which things were imprinted but never really _stayed_. There was a void of feeling in her, a numbness into which she disappeared and there were only thoughts, no emotions.

She had to have felt something, once... She stirred, eyelids half-open, disturbed by this utter _lack_ of passion, by her apathy.

But there was still nothing, even as she pried into all her memories. Anger and frustration had faded at Karen, even at her mother for leaving her. She loved her father and Toby, but even those emotions did not go further then the surface, glancing off a barrier that she had set up around her innermost self.

She searched herself until there was nothing left for her but memories of _him_, and that was the only place which she had not touched, the place that was forbidden to her. He was dangerous to her, to everything that her new-self stood for. Part of her was vaguely annoyed and frustrated with the fact that any emotion that she could remember herself feeling was directly tied to _him_; the rest of her did not care enough.

Sarah drifted between sleep and waking in a world of shadows, mind darting in and out of lucidness. She wandered, and wondered, and thought until her mind felt strained. And her thoughts were haunted, for the first time in years, of a cruel, cruel man who sang to her of love and betrayal...

------

It was early in the morning, and that meant that Jareth was standing outside on a balcony that overlooked the entire Labyrinth, the sun rising to extend beams of golden light across the horizon, illuminating everything. The pale-gold strands of his hair were picked up by the slight breeze that skimmed across the land, and he ruminated, as was his habit before he took up the mantle of a ruler for the rest of the day. He was dressed in a cloak so black that it seemed to want to cling to the shielding darkness of night even when the rest of the world was embracing the day, forming a tearing contrast between darkness and light.

His thoughts were focused intently on one thing at that moment. The subject was obviously painful to him by the look in his eye as he leaned over a railing. His mind repeated the same circular thoughts over and over again...

Nails dug into his leather glove as he glared at nothing, and nothing seemed to glare back at him. He had offered her _everything_, and she had refused him, time and time again in his nightmares. Her name was a curse, a bitter reflection on everything that had happened, on everything that he had done, everything that she had done to him. He hated her, hated her with a passion that might only have been outdone by the force of his love, of the raging love that he was barely able to contain.

Raw, dizzying forces battered him from side to side as he stood, helpless, unable to do anything but watch as she destroyed him, time and time again. Even when she had purged him, erased him from her thoughts, he still watched. Her presence was too great of a temptation to stay away from, and he was too weak to resist. She seemed almost to _burn _to him, set aflame from some hidden light she kept within herself. It was present even when she drowned herself in the world's nonsense, and she still shone.

She loved him, he thought, suddenly in near-unbearable agony that coiled within him, the angry hissings of a serpent that threatened to loose itself upon his soul. A sneer came upon his face, a sneer that held back the pain, and he was torn again, the intense rawness of emotion greater this time. He hated her like he had hated no other. For those who had ran his Labyrinth before, there had always been contempt, but he absolutely _loathed_ Sarah.

And she was so bitter towards him that she would not even say his name. He doubted she knew how often his thoughts were tormented by her, her eyes dancing with childish enthusiasm, burning him.

"Damn you, Sarah," he hissed to the wind, his voice low, rasping in the back of his throat. It threatened to evolve into a scream or a sob, but he curtailed his throbbing emotions before they could overcome him. With one last determined, bitter look at the horizon, he left the balcony.

His days always began like this.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N- Thanks to everyone who replied to the last chapter, even if there weren't as many of you as I was hoping for! And many thanks to my beta, Gibby. It is only because of her this chapter is even semi-coherent. _

**Chapter Two**

Jareth did not know what had caused the Labyrinth to rot, to begin a slow decay into stupidity. It had not been this way once, he knew. He sprawled over his throne, fluid muscles relaxing calmly. Once, there had been beauty here. He had ruled over ethereal creatures, and every day had been full of grace and culture. There had been been those who had ran the Labyrinth, but they had become part of his realm if they failed. He had been their king, and now...

He opened his eyes, allowing them to take a lazy sweep of the entire room. It was chaos. Small goblins were chattering amongst one another, and the whole palace was caked with grime and filth. Every day, he would wake, reveling in the memories of the former splendor of his kingdom before coming to rule over this stupidity. He was the Goblin King indeed, now, although he could almost feel what he had been before, could reach out to grasp it, touching the memories that lurked at the edges of his mind...

His thoughts were interrupted by a feeling, something that called to him with a succinct, clear voice from Aboveground. He calmly summoned up a crystal, posture remaining lazy but as soon as he saw the figure reflected in the sphere, something in him _stood up_, on edge. A part of him was ignited, and there was gleam to his eye, forcing his mouth agape in awe and bitterness...

Sarah stood in the crystal, singing, losing herself into the music. He could almost _feel_ the exaltation that ran up and down her body, the heat of the stage lights on her form...

Jareth stood suddenly in a lithe, cat-like movement, realizing something. None of his creatures even looked up from their bizarre play, not even taking heed to the royalty and command that extended over his entire body.

But still, he murmured, voice velvety-soft, "I have a performance to catch, and I do believe I'm running late." Sharp teeth pointed in a malicious grin as he swept out of the room and into one of the corridors, preparing to enter the Aboveground in his mind.

------

Sarah finished the song, finishing the last, ringing high note of Christine easily, diaphragm was firm and vocal chords relaxed. She fell easily into her character. At first, she had been adverse to performing _The Phantom of the Opera_, figuring that it was out of her range and that she would not be able to identify enough with the heroine. But slowly learning the part and beginning to understand the Phantom had changed that, until the lines between actress and role blurred and bled into each other.

The boat on stage stopped, and the song faded around her. There was nothing in Sarah's mind that compared to the joy of being on stage. She could feel eyes watching her, thousands of eyes from the audience, and it did not frighten her. It _thrilled _her in a way that she could not describe, because she knew they watched with awe and envy, that they were slowly being caught up in the fabric she and the Phantom wove together.

When she performed, she fell into the character in an intense way, drawing upon her inner fantasy and empathy. She would slowly regain herself after everything was done, but right now... right now she would have answered to the name of Christine.

Music fell upon her ears, slowly pulling her into its warm embrace with the haunting, beautiful enchantment of "Music of the Night." She found that it was all-too-easy to allow herself to be seduced, entranced, vulnerable in a way that frightened her...

_...heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination _

The Phantom's eyes were on hers now, and he was as throughly pulled into the part as she was. He reminded her of someone else, someone whose name she cold not place... The unnamed figure's eyes had not been gray as were those of the Phantom now; they had been blue and they had burned.

_Your eyes can be so cruel... _

Sarah did not allow her composure to break, only taking in a small breath. Where had that come from? She could not think of _him_, not right now, not on stage, not while she was performing. She had done this a thousand times. What was different about this night?

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses_

_Helpless to resist the notes I write_

Her coworker, a man named Alan, had noticed her distraction, and was over-singing somewhat to compensate. She smiled, reassuring him, and allowed the music to enfold her again, losing herself in the rhythm. His hand reached out to hers, and as their fingertips touched, what felt like an electric shock ran through her. She knew it had nothing to do with the chemistry of their characters.

------

Jareth had retreated to the sanctuary of his elegant bedchamber. It was a place of quiet solitude, dark red drapes and stone floor never ceasing to reassure him with their solemn majesty. He sat quietly on a dark, wooden throne, eyes closed. He was not even aware of his surroundings, as deeply draped in magic as he was.

He felt her heartbeat as a steady pulse within him. Her soul called for his, pleading with a voice it did not know it had. He reached out with senses that reached beyond him, cloaked in his magic. With eyes that did not see and a touch that did not feel, he felt and saw. The defenses evoked by the slightest touch from him rose up, and he withdrew before she lowered them again. Her mind and her dreams were splayed before his fingertips, innocent and susceptible.

He slowly encompassed the music that was growing within her heart, holding it until he was part of it, woven into the pattern that the actors were making, becoming part of the song. As Sarah reached out to encapsulate that music with her soul, he waited...

------

The music was more a part of her then anything else, now. The song was not as naïve or as pure as it pretended to be; it was seduction, the slow awakening of her spirit. There was a darkness that lurked underneath the whole thing, that threatened to pull her under if she was not careful. The song was sheer passion, raw with the force of love.

She closed her eyes as the Phantom came close enough to touch her, withdrawing only at the last second before his hand could caress her face. This part of her job was all too easy to fall into, to get lost in.

_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor_

_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender_

Behind her down-swept eyelashes, she saw... _him_. She opened her eyes, panicking before the music--before _Jareth--_ called to her, seducing her with promises of fulfillment... and she could not resist. She remembered everything that had passed before, and was caught in-between the adult world and fantasy before she surrendered.

He stood before her in her vision, her greatest threat, her greatest desire. She could sense that this was not a dream as the others had been; no, she was back in the Labyrinth, fighting him for her brother, except this time was different. His sharp, cold beauty regarded her, mocking her. His gaze, however, was not mocking or condescending; he seemed to burn with power and some kind of intensity that she had not seen in him before.

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light_

He beckoned to her with his intensity, with every fiber of power that seemed to radiate off his being. When his gaze met hers, she felt herself come ablaze with lust and need, even as she was vaguely aware of Alan touching her neck, caressing her softly like the thousands of times they had practiced.

_And listen to the music of the night_

She was no longer concentrating on the music; she had fallen into it, into the darker part where the Goblin King lurked.. In her mind, she saw the Goblin King sauntering over to her, and he seemed to be an animal after prey, every movement predatory and controlled. He reached out, touching her shoulder, fingers tracing lightly over her arm. She shivered, unable to control herself. A smile danced across his lips before it was gone.

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams_

_Purge all thoughts of the life you knew before_

"You need me, Sarah," he whispered in her ear, voice at a low, dark pitch meant for her ears only. "And I need you." She jerked away from him in her vision. She had practiced what she was performing on stage so much that it did not require conscious thought. She could give her mind to Jareth while her body remained in the role of Christine.

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_

_And you'll live as you've never lived before_

"I need nothing from you," she hissed, jerking away from his touch. The smirk on his lips faded, replaced with what she saw as anger.

"I have offered you _everything_," he growled, voice low and predatory in the back of his throat. "There is nothing that I can refuse you, Sarah."

She sneered then, contempt forming a thin veneer covering all the other emotions that simmered beneath her skin, threatening to run rampant.

_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you_

_Feel it, hear it, closing in around you_

The Phantom's arms had encircled her, and she was liquid in his embrace, even as it was not the Phantom she longed for. Jareth must have seen it in her eyes somehow, for he smiled quietly, lips pulling back to reveal pointed teeth. The Goblin King in her vision reached out tenderly, stroking her cheek from behind, and small flames of heat between their skin seemed to ignite at his touch. Sarah pulled away, feeling like she was tearing flesh from flesh.

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_

_In this darkness which you know you cannot fight_

"Everything you've done, you've done for me, right?" She threw his own words back at him, anger forming a thick, steady pulse within her. Her rage was irrational, and she did not know _why_ he provoked such vehement feeling from her. All she felt were her teenage feelings, and the knowledge that sprung up from deep inside of her that she _had_ to resist.

The look in his eyes was hard and demeaning, angry and far crueler then she'd ever seen him.

_The darkness of the music of the night_

"No matter how many pretty songs you sing, it always ends the same way."

Her voice had softened now, and she was coaxing, not accusing him.

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world_

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before_

The words to the song were bittersweet as she turned away so he could not see the tears she imagined to be on her cheeks.

"Leave me," she whispered softly, brokenly.

_Let your soul take you where you long to be... _

"Sarah," he breathed, a promise contained in those two syllables that she longed for with all her heart. The Phantom had moved away from her now, and emptiness pervaded her world, far more lasting then the apathy she usually experienced.

"Leave," she said again to the Goblin King, voice stronger, and he did.

_... Only then can you belong to me. _

Sarah took a shaky breath on stage, swaying for a moment as the audience looked on with astonished horror. She was cut off from the dream-world, and for a moment, everything spun wildly before she plummeted to the ground, body succumbing to the terror her mind had experienced.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N-- Sorry it took me so long to churn this one out. My muse has been very tired recently. Enjoy this one... and sorry for the cliffie!_

**Chapter Three**

Loud applause echoed in her ears as she bowed gracefully. Thick stage makeup smudged over her face masked any sign of worry or fear. The stage lights burned on her form warmly as she took Alan's hand in hers. The entire cast looked around at each other, and she noted the smiles they were wearing. Some were genuine, some were fake, but everyone was obviously determined to cash in on the credit for the show.

They all bowed again, raising their joined hands in triumph before the large red, plush curtain slid forward. They made no noise, carefully walking offstage, out of the audience's hearing distance, before celebrating another night. Then, the whole cast erupted in laughter and gleeful yells. She felt a warm, masculine hand slide around her petite waist and lips kiss her cheek in delight. Then, she was picked up and whirled around as her coworker laughed raucously.

"You did a superb job," he said after having put her down, smiling. People bustled around them, muttering under their breath. Sarah was aware of the fact that her embrace was stopping backstage traffic, but she didn't much care. "Didn't you see how they loved you?"

Sarah smiled wanly, teasing him.

"I think you've developed some _female_ fans out in the audience, my dear."

He chuckled richly, starting to move through the long corridors now. One hand stayed on her waist, guiding her through the masses of people.

"There's no accounting for taste, is there?" he asked nonchalantly. She shot him a Look, which only widened the grin on his face.

He turned off abruptly, stopping at her dressing room. She smiled at him again; he was, after-all, quite charming.

Exhaustion overcame her, and she swayed, suddenly turning pale and clutching to the wall as waves of nausea swept over her. She had managed to go on with the performance, shoving all other feelings behind a barrier. The wall between herself and all those emotions was crumbling now that she had a time to rest, and it was overwhelming. Fear, anger, despair...

"You alright?" Alan asked, a comforting hand on her back as she trembled. He was simply a friend, nothing more, and expressed a friend's concern. But she could not tell him, not now, not about Jareth. He would think her less then a child, and she cared about him, cared about his respect. She nodded uncertainly, hair spilling in front of her face, hiding her panic-stricken expression.

"I can take you home," he offered quickly, glancing around. He was still in full stage makeup, prosthetics, mask and all. It would take them both quite awhile to undress and remove the copious amount of makeup plastered on both of their faces. With a shuddering sigh, Sarah quietly regained herself.

"Yeah," she said, her voice barely raised above a whisper. "Yeah, that would be good."

He glanced uncertainly at the door to her dressing room.

"Will you need any help?"

She shook her head, her face beginning to regain some of its natural sanguine color.

"No," she said with a shaky grin, forehead still pressed against the wall, "I think Melanie can take care of me fine, thanks." Melanie was her dresser; a fierce, protective woman who could be quite obstinate if crossed.

"Alright," he said mildly, disbelievingly. He paused for a moment, shooting her a last, caring look before walking away, mixing into the crowd. She enjoyed his company, but he was often overprotective, and she could sense sometimes that he wanted more then a friendship. He was quite the perfect man in many senses; tall, handsome, romantic... But she found a part of herself balking at a relationship, resisting. She did not know why. She closed her eyes, unresisting as Melanie pulled her into the room.

------

Sarah quietly slipped in the apartment door, not even attempting to find the light switch. The New York streetlights outside her window would provide all the illumination she needed for tonight. Pale light filtered through her windows, illuminating the trappings of wealth she had accumulated. Everything seemed darkened and surreal, much like it had years ago on that one night...

Once she stepped in the door, she leaned against the wall, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Tangled, repressed emotions stung within her as she took in deep, shuddering breaths. She had been so content for so long, and then _he _had come and ruined everything, again...

Deeply rooted longing had sprung at his touch. He had slowly rekindled the flames of desire that she had fought for so long. She had longed for him before, had been so needy for his touch, his love, that she had actually almost said the words, dozens of times pulling herself back from the edge before it was too late. Every emotion she had felt before was now cascading over her, multiplied a hundredfold. Despair, knowing she was not the princess who lived her life at the end of the story... She didn't _want_ to feel all this, she only wanted to be happy...

"No," she gasped openly, vulnerably, sliding down until she was on the floor. This wasn't supposed to be the way it went, wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to come back and live happily ever after, with his only presence in her life a memory. He was so dangerous, so cruel... She shuddered to think of his eyes, shuddered to think of his gloved touch. She could never be with him; he was _evil_. He had stolen Toby, had done so many awful things...

Coldness came over her like a harsh, biting, chilling wave. She bit her bottom lip, no longer struggling to hold back the tears. She had not cried for months. Every time there had been even a hint of regret or fear, she had pushed them aside. And now, they were erupting.

The prospect of a life with him chilled her, made her catch her breath in fear. Having to endure a lifetime of that intensity in his eyes, she thought. Having to give into him, utterly and completely. He was inhuman, in too many senses of the word. Even as she thought this, all her desires came rushing back to her in a blazing instant, and she knew. In a moment of dizzying revelation, she reached a pinnacle of thought that surmounted everything.

Despite the fact-- or maybe because of it-- she loved him still.

-------

Jareth's eyelids closed slowly. He was weary, far more weary then he had ever thought he could ever be. Sarah tired him, drained him, as well as infuriated him. She brought out every instinct in him, a sort of anguished desperation. He hated her and loved her for it; it was part of the _reason _he loved her.

He felt every tear that she cried. The apathy that she had felt for so long had been shared by him, and now he felt her pain. They were bound inseparably, much to his chagrin. Her emotions were an uncontrollable force, raging within him, unstoppable. She had felt so little passion, and now she was feeling _everything_. And she was dragging him down to hell with her.

He conjured up a crystal with a regal flick of his wrist. His eyes were wary as he gazed into the sparkling orb. He did not want to see her, not after she had just denied him, but she was irresistible. Mesmerizing, even. Concern blossomed in him as he saw her. She was leaning against a wall, crying. Tears spilled through her fingertips, and her chest was quietly convulsing, her head against her knees.

Seeing her agony both frustrated him and gave him an odd sense of triumph. Mixed emotions wound around each other, confusing him, ripping and twisting the edges of his dark soul. The part of him that acknowledged her as his enemy felt a sense of victory, but the rest of him... The rest of him wanted to _dry_ her tears, to comfort her.

Her head raised, and he was torn from his ruminations into watching her. His eyes glittered with alien emotions as she stood, tears trailing away into nothingness. She wore faded jeans and a white t-shirt, but even these were transformed by the dim lighting into regal, elegant garments. She looked faded, worn, washed-out. It was such an immense change from the self-confident woman he had seen on stage that he actually gasped before regaining himself.

"Say the words, Sarah," he murmured quietly, "And everything will be as you long for."

------

_Deja vu_ left her breathless as her feet dragged across the floor. The only thing that felt different to her hazed mind was the fact that there was no rain and thunder. It was a calm, moon-lit night, a slight breeze pulling at her curtains.

Now, she felt... nothing. It was a different nothing then the apathy she had experienced before. It was like some of the actors she had seen before, the bad ones. They played a part, nothing more, saying words from a script. That was how she felt, like a stranger in her own skin, playing a part, nothing more.

She opened the door to her opulent, luxurious bedroom. Her eyes were glazed over as she walked through, not seeing anything. Her long, elegant fingers closed around the doorknob to her walk-in closet. The only sound a whisper of her shirt catching on the door, she entered the darkened room.

She did not need to see to find the cloak she knew would be there. Dark folds of thick fabric made it distinct from all her other outfits. It would wrap her in shadows, transforming her. She kept it at the back of her closet; she had bought it at a whim, and never worn it. But it was perfect now for her purposes.

She quietly slipped it on over her clothing. It was huge on her, far bigger then it needed to be. It allowed a tantalizing glimpse of flesh at her neck to be seen, allowed her fingernails to be shown, but that was all. She quietly covered her head with the hood. Darkness seemed to set over her, obscuring everything else. Everything seemed to be cold, even through the thick layers of cloth against her.

Her fingertips trailed across the doorway, the stained wood. It felt smooth against the pads of her fingers, and she smiled quietly to herself. The cloak whispered around her, almost as if it had a voice of its own. It seemed to drown her, submerging her in fantasy and memory.

If she had been in her right mind, she would have laughed at herself. She would have chuckled at this ridiculous indulgence in teenage fancy. She would have reminded herself that she was an adult, and she had no business playing dress-up.

But something within her had snapped. Part of her had given in, had stopped fighting, just for that moment. A secretive, sinister smile crossed her rounded lips as she continued her shuffling walk. Her eyes were no longer glazed, but they burned with a strange fervor. She seemed to be carved of porcelain, or perhaps ice.

She walked over to the open window where white curtains billowed out. She closed her eyes, fingertips slowly coming to rest on either side of the windowpane. Then, she began to speak.

"The Goblin-King was angry," she whispered, voice barely above a soft, lilting, longing sigh. "She had forsaken him, had betrayed everything he had to offer her."

Harshness crossed her lips, twisting them into something alien, almost something _inhuman_. Something that was cold, angry, something that burned like a pale fire that lit her from within.

"But," she said, voice steadying, "His desire outweighed his rage, and he resolved to himself that he would capture the girl, make her his."

Her eyes fluttered up into her head in an expression of twisted delight. Repressed emotion was building in her, slowly boiling to the surface. All her desires had been hidden, and now they were beginning to unfurl slowly. It would be a kind of catharsis for her to speak this, a purging of tension and fear and lust.

"The girl knew secretly that she wanted him as much as he longed for her in the depths of his passion, but she would never reveal this to herself, nor to him." Her voice had dropped to an ominous, hushed whisper. Rain was starting to fall now, pelting the earth vengefully outside her window.

------

Jareth caught his breath, staring into the crystal with an unnerving intensity. His eyes were unreadable, every fiber of his being wound into watching her. She appeared unnaturally pale through the distortions of the silver-tinted orb. The lightness of her skin was only emphasized by the dark cloak she wore, clinging to her skin.

She was revealing everything to him, and she did not even know he was watching. She was so beautiful, he thought. Every breath for him was a struggle. She was a catalyst that provoked unexpected emotions in him. He wanted every glance from her eyes, wanted her every touch to belong only to _him_. She took everything that had ever been intense in him and made it raw, made it overpowering, made it a force of its own. She was his life, his obsession. Her presence was the only form of healing for his pain, her eyes the only salve for his desperation. He doubted she would ever know how much power she had over him. His breath quickened as he watched her cross the room to the curtains, her eyes marking a figure that he could not see.

Then she began to speak. Her voice was quiet, silver tones barely loud enough to hear. But Jareth... Jareth heard _everything_.

He did not smile as he heard her revelation. His lips did not quirk into a sarcastic smirk; his eyes did not glisten with mocking cruelty. There was no visible reaction from him as he heard her outpour her desires, no sudden vulnerability. He did not even breathe as he stared at her.

But his soul was reaching out, stretching through layers of space and dimensions as he sat, frozen. His very essence was overflowing with desperate, pleading, raw, open love. It stretched out to Sarah, a breath on her neck. It touched her tears with unexpected tenderness, tasting, feeling. It entered her emotions, knowing that same need in her. She felt the same as him, felt that strength of emotion which no words could have described.

Jareth felt no triumph in knowing this, felt no elation at this new victory. He felt different then he had before, felt out of time, out of place. He was not the Goblin King; his eyes were not awash in cruelty; he did not want to hurt her. The new emotions that were provoked by her were far different, and far more frightening, far more dangerous. They were not tender, or sweet. They were potent and surpassed all bounds of passion, leaping beyond him. He closed his eyes with a weariness that went beyond tears.

Silently, without a sound, he disappeared into the night, preparing himself for confrontation.


End file.
